The Language Of Money Poem by pedro moshood

Money, according to a brother,
Has a language and those who understand
Have a Milda touch on anything they do.

In the assembly of modern 'saints',
Many of the so called high priests at the altar give
Honor most to those that understand the language of money.

Even what makes a man the head
Of his household and his woman to follow
His lead is most often is the money in his bank account.

"The guy is bright and has a good future,
So I'll endure with him." So she said to you,
But what makes it bright is your money making potential.

So be careful when your babe preach the gospel of endurance,
Because if your potential doesn't yield the cash as expected
In years to come, divinity is at work if she doesn't quit.

Even the parents sponsoring your education,
Regardless their financial status, are working with the notion
Of investment, so they understand the language of money.

If you are the apple in your parents' eyes today, it means you
Have to double your hustle, because they expected
More from you, my brother, in years to come.

If anybody tells you the love of money
Is the root of evil, ask them if poverty is good;
Ask them why guys take arms and steal ballot boxes during election.

So I've observed that beneath the claim of those
Who hold unto that notion that money is evil is greed and selfish
Indulgence, so beware, because they do not follow what they preach.

There was a time a dude asked me publicly but stylishly,
" Where is your God because you're poor and disgrace to your pals? "
"God belongs to the rich because they have evidence to show for their service.
You better sit right and think twice and double your hustle." so he recommended.

As a hustler, everyone has story to tell about themselves
Before they make it big, when trusted pals would condemn them
For little favour, even though over the years those pals had
Forgotten how they thrust them to the wall while they were in need.

Money has a language that you cannot understand unless you are focus
And let go off the critics from hypocrites who want you to be below their standard.
There was a fable about an eaglet that fell down into the midst of flock
Of chicks, but it died a chicken because it never knew it's wings could fly.